The gates of the academy opened with a quiet hum, the ancient stones recognizing her presence. Lira stepped through, the scent of parchment, herbs, and warm stone instantly wrapping around her like a familiar shawl.
She nodded gently to a few passing apprentices and waved at the old cook who stood by the side door peeling violet roots.
Her steps were slow, not out of weariness, but something softer. A sense of return. Of grounding.
Her room welcomed her like an old friend, the soft moss woven into her rug, the gentle flicker of the crystal lamp, and the ever-present hum of her growing shelf near the window.
She removed her cloak and set her satchel down carefully, placing her empty vials back in their compartments. The charm Renkai had given her sat nestled inside, still warm.
But before rest, she had one more place to visit.
